


I Can't Believe It's Not Butter

by laceymcbain



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceymcbain/pseuds/laceymcbain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lex, how exactly did you get your head stuck in the banister?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Believe It's Not Butter

"Lex, how exactly did you get your head stuck in the banister?"

"Dammit, Clark, it isn't funny. Just get me the hell out of here," Lex said angrily from his position on his hands and knees.

Clark stood on the staircase at the Luthor mansion and put one hand lightly on Lex's shoulder, which jerked beneath his hand. Clark scanned Lex quickly with his x-ray vision, relieved to see that there was nothing more than a few superficial bruises and one severely pissed off Luthor. Not that he needed x-ray vision to notice that fact. Lex was radiating fury like a fire gives off heat.

"I'll have to get something to cut the metal, Lex. Or maybe we can try sliding your head out."

Lex let out a restrained groan of frustration. "If I could slide my head out, I would've done it already, Clark."

"Maybe if we put something oily on your head," Clark started to say, but stopped when he heard a deep guttural noise from Lex.

"Lex, did you just growl at me?"

"I am not a goddamn bowling ball. There will be no oiling of my head." Lex's voice was perfectly calm. Frighteningly calm. Clark suspected it was the tone of voice reserved for a select unfortunate few who were about to have the full fury of a Luthor unleashed upon them. He swallowed nervously. Clark couldn't remember if Lex had every yelled at him before.

"It was just an idea. I want to get you out of here without hurting you or the railing." Clark spoke gently, but the air felt the way it did before a sudden storm, and he braced himself for the deluge that was about to fall. He was not disappointed.

"I don't give a flying fuck about the railing, Clark. I've been manhandled by a green-haired Amazon, robbed of property not to mention my dignity, and had my head shoved through a goddamn railing by another Smallville weekly meteorite special. I've been on my hands and knees here for a bloody hour, which in the past has meant being the recipient of a really great fuck, but no such luck today. Just bend the goddamn metal already and quit screwing around. Get me the fuck out of here, Kent!"

Lex hit the bars with the flat of his palms hard enough that Clark felt the tremor in the staircase. Clark cringed as he made his way down the stairs. It was never a good sign when Lex started calling him by his last name. Or saying "fuck" every second sentence. He now understood exactly why zoo keepers cautioned against poking caged animals.

Clark circled around to the side of the stairs so he was now eye-to-eye with Lex. The blue eyes were full of fury, hands clenched tightly around the thick metal bars that had been pushed together, effectively pinioning Lex's head between them. Clark breathed deeply and tried to quell the shaking in his limbs.

Lex seemed to think that he could just bend the bars. Well, of course he could, but Lex wasn't supposed to know that. Assuming that someone could bend solid steel bars wasn't logical, and Lex was nothing if not logical, albeit in his own special Lex way sometimes. But for some reason, he thought that Clark was strong enough to easily do so, and maybe this was finally his chance to tell Lex the truth. Or show him.

"Clark?" Lex's voice was soft, but strong. "Please?"

God, there was something about Lex asking with such politeness, such hopefulness, that made Clark want to give him whatever he asked. Luthors just took what they wanted; they didn't say please. Not for anyone. Maybe he could convince Lex it was adrenaline or head trauma induced hallucinations--as if that had ever really worked in the past. One thing that Lex wasn't was stupid.

Or maybe it was all an elaborate test to get him to reveal his gifts so Lex could haul him off to a secret lab and cut him open. Clark wondered when his subconscious had started sounding so much like his father, when fear had begun to triumph over what he knew to be true. Lex would never hurt him. If Lex believed he could bend steel, was that really so far of a stretch for a man who believed aliens existed and that men could fly? Who believed in destiny and a friendship that would be the stuff of legend?

Clark placed his hands steadily on the bars on either side of Lex's head and was surprised to realize that his palms were sweating.

"Lex, I ... I don't ..."

Lex's eyes didn't leave Clark's. Something in his face seemed to harden as Clark's voice trailed off. Clark saw Lex's eyes darken, as if somewhere inside of him a door was closing for the last time, and Clark could've sworn a chill breeze swept through the room. Lex slowly let his neck relax forward, his eyes dropping towards the floor. It was a gesture of resignation, and not one that Clark had ever seen on Lex's face. Lex slid his hands up the bars to where they bumped awkwardly against Clark's for a second before moving away.

"My cell phone's in my jacket pocket in the study. The staff has the weekend off, so you'll have to call someone who can--"

"You didn't let me finish, Lex," Clark said quietly, momentarily considering the fact that Lex could have been stuck like this a lot longer than an hour if Clark hadn't dropped by after school. The meteor mutant with steel-twisting abilities could also have done a lot more damage than simply incapacitating Lex while she cleaned out his safe. The thought was sobering.

Lex shifted to stare at Clark with cautious surprise. His whole face was a question mark as Clark spoke again: "I was going to say that I don't want to hurt you, so you'll need to stay as still as you can. No more head trauma for you. Understand?"

The ghost of a smile crossed Lex's face and his left hand slid up and covered Clark's. He looked like Clark had just given him a present. For the first time Clark realized how uncomfortable it must've been for Lex to be trapped like this, alone and vulnerable in the mansion--on his hands and knees, unable to move or help himself. The metal bars were twisted in such a way that there was almost no chance to relax his neck or shoulders, no opportunity to unclench the muscles knotting under his flesh. Any sudden moves had the potential to push the sharp metal against the tender flesh at Lex's throat, not to mention the embarrassment of having his ass-kicked, yet again, by some meteor-pumped cat burglar who had all the subtlety of a Mack truck. Clark didn't even know where she'd gone or what she'd gotten away with. No doubt he'd have to deal with that later.

Clark swallowed and pushed down the impulse to brush his hand against Lex's exposed skin--to lean down and press a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat. He felt himself swallow selfconsciously, aware that he'd been staring at Lex's skin. He glanced up. Aware that he'd been caught. Clark blushed.

"You know I'm your friend, Clark. I would never do anything to hurt you. Or your family."

"I trust you, Lex." Clark gazed into Lex's eyes, willing Lex to see the truth in what he said. In spite of his secrets, he'd always trusted Lex with everything else that mattered. He would've trusted him with everything if the decision had been just his. "I'm trusting you now."

"I promise you won't regret it," Lex whispered, and Clark noticed that Lex's hand was still covering his. Clark's palms were sweating more than ever, and it wasn't just from fear of what he was about to do. When had Lex's touch begun to make his skin tremble with heat? Gently he pulled his hands back, Lex's hand falling down to help support his own weight. Clark smiled, a little bit embarrassed as he wiped his palms on the thighs of his blue jeans.

"Ready?" Clark said with a small grin as he grasped the metal railings again.

"I've been ready for this for years," Lex returned softly, and Clark suddenly wondered if Lex meant something else. The blue eyes flickered over him with anticipation.

Clark bent his knees and braced himself for the motion of pulling the metal apart. He would have to move slowly or risk hurting Lex. He caught Lex's eager expression once more before he bent his head and tightened his grip. He took a deep breath and ...

"Dad!" Lex called out suddenly, voice a little too loud in the empty hall.

Clark's head snapped up and he stepped away from the railing abruptly, turning around to see Lionel Luthor standing in the hallway with a bemused expression.

"Don't let me interrupt your fun, boys," Lionel said, "although I'm surprised to see you here, Mr. Kent. Don't tell me that Lex has lured you into his more unsavoury proclivities."

Clark wasn't even sure what that last word meant, but it didn't sound like a compliment. He felt his face go hot, but he refused to drop his gaze. There was no way that Lionel was going to scare him off, and certainly not with Lex in this position. Lex had been bullied and embarrassed enough for one day.

"Your fangs are showing, Dad," Lex said coolly. Clark marvelled at how easily the mask dropped back over Lex's face. Clark knew he was angry, could sense it in the clench of his jaw, the exaggerated ease of his voice. "Clark was just helping me out of my rather unusual predicament."

"You do seem to get yourself tied up, don't you, Lex," Lionel said walking closer, his eyes taking in everything. They seemed to rake over Lex's body like nails on a blackboard. The blue eyes, so much like Lex's but immeasurably colder, settled on Clark and scanned him from head to toe. Clark couldn't have felt more exposed if he'd been standing there naked. He shoved his hands into his back pockets.

Lionel continued: "You really must remember to teach your friend the importance of a safe word."

Clark didn't know it was possible to feel dirty without having done anything wrong. He felt Lex stiffen behind him.

"For Christ's sake, Dad, do you have to turn everything into something tawdry?" Clark could hear the anger bleeding into Lex's voice. Lionel's mouth quirked into a small smile. Clark tensed and kept his body between Lex and Lionel. He knew he shouldn't feel like he had to protect Lex from his own father, but Clark had learned to trust his impulses.

"Careful, Lex, your emotions are showing," Lionel said with a chiding tone.

"Dad, much as I love this verbal sparring, I'd really like to get the hell out of here. Clark, why don't you go see if you can find something?"

Clark turned to cast a questioning look at Lex. There was no way that he wanted to leave Lex with his dad.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Clark, my dear boy, what do you think I'm going to do? Lex is my son," Lionel said, "despite whatever else he might be."

Again, Clark felt the sensation of being vaguely unclean, as if a thin layer of grime had floated through the air on Lionel's innuendos and settled on his skin like a film.

"I'll be fine, Clark. Just find something to get me out of here. Anything."

Clark glared at Lionel and stepped past him, heading for the hall.

"I'll be right back, Lex," Clark called back, rounding the corner. He turned on his super-speed as soon as he was out of sight.

"Interesting boy that Clark Kent," Lionel said leaning back against the railing beside Lex's protruding head. Lex scowled. He hadn't thought his day could get any worse, until he'd peered over Clark's set shoulder to see his father heading towards them. Thank God, he hadn't walked in a minute later when Clark would've been bending the metal apart. Lex felt a tiny thrill run though his body at the thought of what Clark had been going to do. For him. The strength he'd sensed coursing through Clark's body. For a moment, the rest of it seemed worth it.

Lex felt a hand on the back of his neck and he tried to shake it off without rubbing his neck on the twisted metal around him. The firm pressure of fingers gripping his neck only reasserted itself more forcefully.

"Why exactly are you here, Dad?" Lex said, hoping that distraction would get Lionel focussed on something--anything--other than Clark. He hated the feeling of kneeling while talking to his father. No one else in the world made him feel subservient, and being in this position certainly wasn't helping. One thing Lionel didn't need was another opportunity to feel superior.

"I had business in town--"

"In Smallville?" Lex said incredulously. "Your only business here is meddling in my plant."

"Careful, son. LexCorp is still very young. Over-confidence has led many a general to defeat."

"And careful use of one's resources has led many a lieutenant to rise when his general has fallen."

Lionel laughed, and Lex could feel his father's breath tickling over the back of his head. If he'd had hair follicles, he was sure they would've been standing on end. He closed his eyes and pushed down his feelings of claustrophobia. Panic. He forced his fingers to relax and tried to breathe evenly. He would not let his father see that he was as effectively trapped as a beast in a cage. Helpless. Vulnerable. Weak. Living proof of everything his father hated, of all the ways that Lex had failed to live up to the Luthor name.

"I'm just concerned. Metropolis is your home. You can't seriously prefer living here where you seem to fall victim to every nut with a bone to pick. Unless you really enjoy being saved repeatedly by the gallant Mr. Kent like some trashy romance heroine."

"Clark and I are friends. Friends spend time together."

"So, he's just your friend?"

"Yes." Lex said it with as much distance as he could manage. He couldn't afford to let his father see how he really felt about Clark.

"Like Bruce Wayne was your friend?" The fingers on the back of Lex's neck gripped him more tightly.

Lex felt a chill ripple through his body. God, he hated how much his father knew about his life, especially considering how desperately he'd tried to hide the things that really mattered.

"Clark's a teenager," Lex said through clenched teeth.

"So was Bruce."

"So was I. I think that's a little different. Not that it's any of your business, but there's nothing going on." Lex prayed that his voice didn't betray his hope that it wouldn't always be that way. In the meantime, he had Clark's friendship and the occasional fantasies that fuelled his sleepless nights.

"Perhaps you'd better tell him that," Lionel said speaking directly against Lex's ear, startling him into moving against the metal. Lex winced.

Lionel straightened up and resumed a normal voice. "It would appear that Clark has returned," he said loudly, releasing Lex's neck with a final, ungentle squeeze. Lex fought the urge to pull away. There wasn't exactly anywhere to go, after all.

"And it looks like you're in luck. He's brought the butter!" Lionel said with a low chuckle.

Clark heard Lionel's laughter as he turned down the corridor. Lex's body had shifted almost imperceptibly, but Clark could see the stiffness in his posture. Lex was pressed as far back as the collapsed bars would allow him to go. Lionel was languidly removing a hand from his son's neck. Clark fought the urge to surge forward and shove Lionel forcibly away. He clutched the yellow plastic container he was holding.

"Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt 'Last Tango in Smallville'," Lionel said with a lewd grin. Clark didn't get the reference, but somehow he knew when he did, he'd be even more embarrassed than he already was.

"I'm sorry," Clark said, moving to stand where Lex could see him without straining. "I couldn't find any tools, and I didn't want to take too long. My mom sometimes uses butter to get her rings off if they get stuck." He hoped Lex was going to be able to forgive him for the indignity of all this. He ignored Lionel's laughter.

"See you at the board meeting on Monday," Lionel said. He pushed easily away from the railing and brushed past Clark a little more closely than necessary. "Do be gentle with him, Clark. I'm sure the farm fresh product is excellent, but Lex always had such sensitive skin."

With that he turned and ambled down the corridor, the sound of his footsteps resounding in the silence he left behind.

"Jeez, Lex, how do you deal with him?" Clark said softly, moving up the stairs and kneeling on the step below Lex. He laid a hand lightly on his shoulder. He felt Lex flinch and then relax back against his touch.

"I don't have much choice, Clark. He's my father," Lex said as if it were the only explanation he had.

"Your relationship with your father is ..."

Clark didn't know how to put words to what he felt. Lionel was unsettling at best. He always made Clark feel slightly guilty, although he couldn't figure out why. He felt like he was being assessed the way his dad would size up a prize bull, but with Lionel he really couldn't tell if he was being appraised as a companion for his son or as a potential LuthorCorp project. Either prospect was more than a little frightening.

"Complex?" Lex ventured.

"I was thinking more like creepy," Clark said, opening the plastic container and gently rubbing the creamy yellow mixture into his hands as if it were lotion. He laid his hands along the sides of Lex's head where it was pressed against the metal, and gently began to stroke, letting his fingers rub back and forth along the perfectly smooth skin. He couldn't ever remember touching Lex's head, and the sensation was surprisingly sensual.

"My father's never laid a hand on me, Clark, if that's what you're worried about," Lex said softly. Clark's fingers froze for an instant, then resumed their careful rubbing as Lex continued. "He didn't have to. Better to make your opponents fear what you could do than show them what you can do."

"Most people don't treat their sons like opponents."

Clark could feel the skin warming under his fingers as he rubbed, felt Lex relaxing. Encouraged, he stretched his fingers out further to massage Lex's scalp. He felt a flush of warmth as Lex pushed back slightly against his hands. A small note of pleasure sounded low in the back of his throat. Clark wasn't sure it would have been audible to anyone but him. He didn't stop to think about what it might mean.

"Most people aren't my father. With him, it's all about tactics, strategy."

"Chapter one in Machiavelli's Guide to Effective Parenting, no doubt."

"I'm a Luthor," Lex said simply.

"That's not much of an answer," Clark said, wishing he could take away some of the burdens that came with that name. Clark rubbed slow circles into the flesh above Lex's ears.

"Yeah, but it's the only one I've got."

Clark knew very few people actually understood how difficult it was for Lex to be perceived as nothing more than a name and a bank account number. There was a moment of silence while Clark continued to let his hands slide smoothly over Lex's scalp. It felt so intimate to be touching Lex's head. Although it was always exposed, it was something that he knew was off-limits to the world. As if Lex's baldness was just there to remind people of all the skin that he kept hidden beneath long sleeves and flowing coats. It was like those apples in the Garden of Eden, hanging there for everyone to see, but never being allowed to touch. To taste. No wonder Adam and Eve had caved to temptation.

"Um, Clark?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but why the hell are you rubbing butter on my head?"

Clark immediately drew his hands away and stood up. Shit! He hadn't even thought about what he was doing. Lionel had freaked him out so completely that he'd only been able to focus on getting something to help slide Lex's head out.

"Your father ..."

"Has been gone for quite some time. If he was going to come back, he would've already done so."

"God, Lex, I'm sorry. I didn't even think--" Clark said. He hastily rubbed his oily hands on his pants.

"Don't be sorry. Just get me out of here. Really, it's okay. I'm not mad." Clark could almost hear a smirk in Lex's voice. Maybe Clark wasn't the only one who'd gotten distracted by the feel of oily fingers on warm flesh.

Clark quickly swung one long leg over Lex's back and braced his foot on the step above, his other foot resting on the stair below.

"Clark?"

"Just hold still. I'm getting you out of here."

"It feels a lot more like you're about to ride me like a horsey." Clark felt his breath catch in his throat. Did Lex have any idea what he was doing to him with images like that? He steadied himself, trying to keep his groin from brushing against Lex's back.

"Maybe later," Clark said leaning low over his shoulder and bracing his arms on the bars. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded too low, too husky. He wondered vaguely at what point they had passed from friendly banter to outright flirting and why there didn't seem to be much difference. Maybe it had always been flirting.

"Jesus, Clark. Don't joke. Do you realize what this looks like?"

"You started it," Clark said defensively. "Are you expecting more company?"

"No."

"Then shut up and let me concentrate. If I slip, we'll both be in trouble."

Clark gripped the bars steadily, feeling the iron slide a little in hands that still carried traces of oily residue. He bent more at the knees, feet braced, his thigh pushing ever so slightly against the firm muscles of Lex's body. The bars started to move, just a little, metal groaning under Clark's hands as he pulled the metal away from Lex's vulnerable head.

"See if you can slip out, Lex," Clark said. "Careful."

He could feel Lex shifting below him, smooth skull drawing back cautiously, finally slipping free from the metal and disappearing behind Clark. Clark felt a hand touch the back of his leg firmly.

"I'm clear."

Clark let go of the bars and settled down beside Lex on the step, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

"You okay?" he asked, glancing over at Lex. Blue eyes met his and Clark saw Lex's mouth crack into a grin.

"Yeah," Lex said nodding. "That was amazing."

Clark looked down, cheeks flushing with pleasure and embarrassment. Right now he didn't care what the consequences of Lex knowing his secrets would be, didn't care that his parents were going to think he'd lost his mind. They wouldn't see Lex's head stuck in a banister as a secretrevealing situation. And they'd have a point, but it felt like such a relief to just have it out in the open. No more lying. No more lying to Lex.

"That wasn't anything. I can do way more interesting stuff than that."

"Really?" Lex said, and his voice was thick with innuendo. "Because that was some scalp massage."

"You jerk," Clark said, but his voice came out sounding more playful than angry. He gave Lex a friendly nudge with his shoulder. Lex rubbed a hand reflexively over his scalp.

"Shit, Clark, I've got butter on my head." He pulled his hand away and looked for somewhere to wipe it before reaching out and rubbing his outstretched palm along Clark's denim-clad thigh.

"Hey!" Clark said indignantly, but didn't pull away. They were both laughing now. "It's not butter, Lex."

"Well, what the hell is it then?" Lex asked rubbing a finger cautiously along the skin by his ear. He held up the finger and examined a faintly creamy substance. Keeping his eyes focussed on Clark, he slipped the tip of the finger in his mouth and sucked the substance off. Clark felt his face flush with heat, but he couldn't shift his eyes from Lex's. He watched Lex's tongue sweep the tip of his finger again, then dart back into his mouth. He pressed his lips together thoughtfully.

"Tastes like butter."

"It's supposed to," Clark said weakly, as Lex captured another swirl of the creamy substance with his fingertip. He held it up for Clark to see. The long finger hovered an inch away from Clark's lips. He saw a hint of challenge in Lex's eyes, a flicker of invitation, and underneath it all the tiniest glimmer of fear. Clark realized that Lex was scared of this too. Of what he felt. Of what no more lies between them might mean. Somehow knowing that Lex--with all his experience, his cool confidence--was scared too, made everything easier.

Clark closed his eyes and let his tongue slip between his lips. Clark heard a soft groan as Lex moved his finger closer, letting Clark lick the tip before taking it into his mouth. It was warm and smooth and the creamy taste was slightly salty. He pulled off Lex's finger with a wet sucking sound that went straight to his groin.

"What is it?" Lex asked, and his voice was husky.

"What?"

"If it's not butter. What is it?"

Clark could hear genuine curiosity in Lex's voice. He smiled as he recognized the science geek that Lex was at heart. Clark let his eyes flicker open, saw that Lex was studiously sucking on one of his own fingers again, and let his eyes fall shut with a tiny whimper. He'd endured blue water bottles and endless games of pool, but finger-sucking was going to kill him.

"I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Butter."

"I'm getting that, but what is it?"

"No, that's what it's called." Clark suddenly felt like he was stranded in a bad comedy routine. He opened his eyes and saw ... Lex still sucking on his fingers. Lex's eyes were full of heat and promise and that intense, almost painful, curiosity. He looked insatiable. Clark shifted his eyes. He noticed the way Lex's shirt was tucked neatly into pants that seemed to fit just a little too tightly, and apparently there was nowhere he could look that wasn't going to make him think of sex. And Lex. And sex with Lex.

Clark grabbed for the plastic container and held it up in front of his face so Lex could read the writing. Damned x-ray vision that insisted on searching for Lex through the plastic. Lex was leaning in closer to scan the ingredient list and nodding with an interested "hm." God, even skeletal finger-sucking was making him hot.

"You found this in my kitchen?" Clark detected something faintly off in Lex's voice. He lowered the plastic container.

"Yes. Why?"

"It's a butter substitute."

"It's supposed to be healthy."

"Do I look unhealthy?"

"Well, you are a little pale."

"Clark! We live in the middle of the heartland. People raise cows. You raise cows. Do you know what it would do to my reputation if people found out I don't use real butter?"

The look on Lex's face was one of pure horror, as if he'd suddenly discovered his best pants were polyester and he'd never noticed before. It was the look of the princess who'd been sleeping with the pea under her mattress for years and had never detected a difference. He was clearly imagining a scenario where the dairy farmers marched on the castle with pitchforks and torches and it looked liked Lex wouldn't blame them in the slightest.

"I doubt that using fake butter is the biggest risk to your reputation here, Lex," Clark muttered, avoiding Lex's eyes. "Besides, maybe it's just for the staff," Clark added. He really wanted to get off this line of thought and get back to the finger-sucking and licking. He really needed Lex to explain that "Last Tango in Smallville" comment that Lionel had made.

"Did you see any real butter?" Lex asked suspiciously, glaring at the yellow plastic container as if he could extract answers from it, as if at any moment he expected it to pipe up with a ransom note and a series of demands for the release of the real butter.

"Well, no," Clark said, knowing that it was a lost cause. Focussed Lex was about as difficult to stop as a runaway horse or the passage of time. "But I didn't stop to look, either. I was kind of in a hurry. Best friend with his head stuck in the railing and all."

Lex was unshakable. "I'm going to have to speak to the staff about this," he said, frowning. He looked faintly betrayed. Clark was going to have to do something drastic if he wanted to get Lex to do anything that even remotely involved sucking.

"Lex?" Clark said. Lex was studying the list of ingredients again and Clark imagined him breaking down the chemical compounds in his head. It was either do something now or he was going to lose Lex to formulas and impromptu lab experiments for the rest of the evening. He took the plastic container out of Lex's hands and set it down.

Clark moved swiftly, pushing Lex's knees apart and kneeling on the step below. Lex raised one eyebrow.

"Clark." The way Lex said his name made it fall somewhere between a question and a statement. Clark had never realized that someone saying his name in just that way could be such a turn-on-- until he met Lex.

Clark reached up and let his fingers slide over Lex's scalp, concentrating on the areas where he'd slathered him with I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Butter. He brought one hand to his lips and deliberately sucked each finger, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Lex's. The other hand moved sensually over Lex's bare scalp, fingers tracing elaborate patterns on the pale skin.

"I don't think it's so bad, Lex," Clark said. He leaned in close enough to brush his cheek against Lex's, then leaned closer and pulled Lex's head down. His tongue traced a slow path over the buttery patch of skin. "I could lick you all day." He felt Lex groan softly against his neck, teeth grazing his skin.

Then Lex was wrapping his arms around him, hands slipping into his hair and folding into fists that tugged him closer, mouth moving hungrily against the bare skin of his neck, his throat. Lex kissed the line of his jaw, stopping to suck his lower lip greedily, leaving it red and pouting, before covering him completely with his mouth. Lex's tongue darted between his lips like a hot brand, and Clark felt as if he were being mapped. Memorized. Claimed.

Lex was all about owning and demanding and giving everything or nothing. Now that they had started this, it would consume them, control them until they reached some kind of balance between the desperate push and pull of their bodies. Clark knew that Lex was strong enough to let him be who he was, strong enough to keep him honest, and Clark had the strength to pull Lex back when he stumbled too close to the edge that he danced along, the edge that his father was trying to herd him over like some kind of sacrificial beast.

Clark broke away breathlessly, leaned his head briefly against Lex's forehead. So this was what it felt like when the laws of the universe were challenged, when unstoppable force met immovable object. When Destiny stretched her legs and kicked their asses.

"God, Lex," Clark murmured.

Lex's hands moved up to clasp Clark's face, pulled him in to kiss again, tongue slicking over his lips, his teeth, the warm inside of his mouth. Clark moaned and opened his mouth wider, head tilting back for greater access. He could let Lex have this, have him, let him have control like he hadn't had all day with meteor mutants and twisted metal prisons and his father's games.

God, it felt good to not be the one in control, the one who worried about every touch, every show of strength because Lex was holding him with a grip that would have left bruises on anyone else. Giving him permission to hold on just as tightly, to touch, to not have to hide anymore, even if Lex wasn't aware that's what he was saying with his body. Lex was nipping at his lips and throat with teeth that wanted to mark him, bruise him, brand him, and Clark felt vaguely sorry that the bruises would fade almost immediately. He was only semi-aware when his t-shirt was peeled away, when Lex's dress shirt became untucked, unbuttoned, and gracelessly tossed behind them on the stairs.

"Your skin, Lex," Clark breathed as he pushed Lex back against the stairs, nuzzling his mouth down Lex's bare chest, exploring the rigid pink of his nipples. Lex threw his head back and clutched at Clark's bare shoulders and Clark couldn't ever imagine a sound better than the panting moans that Lex was making as Clark tongued his way down his chest. He pushed a tentative hand against the bulge of Lex's erection. Lex swore and arched up into Clark's touch, kissing him so hard that Clark thought he tasted blood on Lex's mouth.

"Upstairs. Now," Lex gasped.

Lex was up and pulling him, half-dragging him up the stairs, their hands slippery with sweat and smelling like butter. Lex was hanging on to him as if he were about to disappear, as if Clark might turn and flee if he thought too much about what was happening between them. Clark wondered if super-speeding them to the bedroom would be considered too forward.

Lex pulled them through an open door, slamming it shut behind them with a solid kick of his foot. Clark felt himself pressed against the oak, Lex clutching at him while he kissed him wildly. Lex's tongue seemed to be everywhere--stroking the roof of Clark's mouth, sliding eagerly over his lips, licking at his jaw, his throat--and that tongue seemed to be trying to push him through the door. Clark had never been kissed like this, so thoroughly, so urgently, that he felt like he could come just from the feeling of Lex's tongue sliding in and out, fucking his mouth with a passion that was the farthest thing from restrained that Clark had ever felt. He felt pinned, held by a kind of strength he'd never known from someone else.

"Fuck, Clark," Lex moaned into his neck, teasing the skin there. "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course I'm not sure. Are you?" Clark's voice was husky, breathless. He seized a nipple between his teeth and sucked hard, pleased when Lex momentarily threw back his head and moaned. He'd never realized what a rush it could be to make someone so in control sound like he was about to lose his mind. Clark sucked harder, keen on making Lex make that sound again.

Clark fumbled with the belt at Lex's waist, trying to undo it by feel alone, while his mouth found Lex's. Lex eagerly took his tongue and sucked it as if it were the source of all life. Clark vaguely wondered if Lex would care if he simply shredded his clothes. He wondered if he'd notice. The thought of getting Lex naked was causing his control to slip more and more every moment, and he really didn't know how long he was going to last against Lex's onslaught. If this was surrender, his body was definitely in favour of raising the white flag.

"Am I sure? No. Yes. I don't know," Lex breathed against Clark's skin sending goose bumps skittering across his flesh, seeming to regain his equilibrium for one fleeting moment. "I've wanted you forever." Clark stared into eyes that he knew were telling him the absolute truth. No masks. No secrets. Lex, bare and honest. Eyes that were naked and pale and everything that was Lex.

Clark tossed the leather belt aside, fumbling with the clasp on Lex's pants. "Really?" he said, although it wasn't a surprise exactly and his skin tingled with pleasure as he thought of all the times they'd danced around each other with looks and touches and words that could mean as much or as little as they wanted.

"Yes," Lex said, hands sliding down Clark's chest and over his hips, pulling them closer. Clark groaned as he felt Lex's hips push roughly against his, their twin erections rubbing against one another. "I just figured it would never happen."

"Why didn't you ..."

Clark pushed Lex away just enough to get a hand on his zipper, then he was letting his hand trace Lex's erection, hard under silk that clung damply to his form, and so undeniably male. Clark tugged at the dress pants, which dropped to the floor with a small swishing sound. Lex kicked them aside, nudged off his shoes and socks and added them to the disarray on the floor.

"Why didn't I say something?" Lex snorted. He was tugging at Clark's jeans one-handed, while his other hand had slipped inside Clark's boxers and was rapidly making him forget about reasons or secrets--Christ, Lex's hand was warm and slippery and felt so different from his own. Clark wasn't sure if he'd even be able to remember his own name with Lex's hand touching him like that and he didn't really care.

"What could I say, Clark? That I wanted to fuck you?" Lex whispered, and Clark thought he heard a note of bitterness underneath the lust. "You would've run home screaming and not looked back." Lex was wrenching his jeans down, past his hips, loose boxers sliding to the floor with them, releasing his aching erection into Lex's eager hand.

"It wasn't worth the risk," Lex murmured against his skin as he kissed his way down Clark's chest, blowing softly over the bare skin of his cock, and sinking to the floor. "I couldn't lose you."

He pulled off Clark's runners, his lips busily exploring every inch of skin he could reach. Clark let his hands drop to run smoothly over Lex's bare scalp, cradle it in his hands--hands that could crush Lex's skull with hardly any effort, and Clark felt his breath catch in the back of his throat. Lex knew that. Lex had seen him pull metal bars apart and still he was trusting him to hold him, to touch him, and not break him.

"God, Lex," Clark moaned and slammed his head back against the door as the enormity of that kind of trust sank in. He was vaguely aware that he may have fractured the oak. Solid oak, but it didn't really matter anymore because he was here with Lex. This was real and there weren't going to be anymore secrets. Not between them. Just like there wasn't going to be any clothing between them ever again if Clark had something to say about it.

Lex was licking the back of his knee, stroking up the inside of his thigh, and Clark was vaguely aware that he'd been moaning Lex's name over and over. He cast a glance down, saw Lex looking up at him with something that could have been need, a question in those blue-grey eyes. Lex was asking his permission. Lex, who was his friend in so many ways that Clark had forgotten, who would do anything for him, would kill for him, was asking him if this was okay. And he knew without a doubt that Lex would accept his decision with grace. Even if it meant walking away. Because he was Lex. Knowing that, seeing that in Lex's eyes made it the easiest thing in the world to accept what his body knew instinctively, what his heart was just beginning to understand. This was right. This was destiny.

Clark leaned his head back against the door, careful not to shatter anything, and said, "Yes, Lex. Please. I want this. You. Everything."

There was the feeling of a hand cupping his ass, another stroking through the hair curled thick and dark at his groin. The tentative lick of a tongue that would've sent him to his knees if Lex hadn't reached both hands up to steady him. Clark knew he couldn't watch, he'd never last if he had to watch Lex's beautiful pale lips taking him in, watching his pink tongue slide over and around his hard, leaking cock. It was almost too much to imagine what Lex was doing as he felt fingers and tongue and mouth wrapped around him, dark and wet and warm, like something completely safe and yet so intimately dangerous. It was as if Lex's tongue had suddenly become a flame that was licking at his body, heat burning his skin in a delicious kind of torment. Clark felt nimble fingers stroke his balls, hand grabbing his ass and pushing him, yes, pushing him closer, as if Lex wanted to swallow him whole.

God, he was in Lex's mouth, in his throat and he was thrusting helplessly now, hitting the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat, and the world had become a primordial ooze of dark sucking sounds, shadows and fire. He was screaming, his voice sounding deep and far away, as if Lex were sucking his words right out of him, the ability to form language--gone. Lex kept moving, sliding, sucking him deeper, swallowing, muscles working against his flesh in tight, undulating motions. Clark felt every ripple of skin, every sensation, every stroke until the world exploded behind his eyes and flames shot through his entire body like the breath of a dragon. He was falling, falling, connecting with flesh and muscle and bone, the feeling of wood scraping against his back. The ceiling swirled away in a torrent of stars, the sound of Lex's name echoing in his ears.

"Clark?" He felt hands cupping his face gently, fingers a smooth caress against his cheek, and he knew that he was smiling because this was everything he had never dreamed it could be.

Lex's lips touched his softly, languidly, hunger still there, but circling on the edge of the fire like a jungle cat. Lex was willing to wait, knowing that the fire would slowly die, that the opportunity to move closer would return. Lex's kiss was tender--Clark could think of no other word for it. He tasted himself on Lex's tongue and wondered why that didn't seem strange, so much as right.

"You okay?" Lex's voice came softly. Clark let his lashes flutter open to find himself slumped against the door, Lex still kneeling between his legs, eyes a lustful blue, lips plump and warm with kisses.

"Perfect," Clark whispered, letting his hands caress Lex's body. Lex smiled and Clark felt his heart tremble slightly as he registered the emotion that was written like sky-writing across Lex's face. God, he looked so happy. Amazed. Maybe a little bit smug, and the two of them were laughing now, laughing at the madness of this day that had given them second chances and opportunities and this glorious new way of speaking with tongues that couldn't lie. Laughing like the best of friends, which they were--which Destiny had declared they would be forever.

"Your eyes get really green when you come," Lex said, voice hushed as if afraid to break the spell that had been cast over them. His fingers skittered lightly across Clark's chest, nipples stiffening as if Lex had raised a cool breeze against his skin. "Like emeralds. They're beautiful."

"What about you? Do your eyes get more blue?" Clark asked lazily, wrapping his arms around Lex's waist and pulling him closer. He rolled them away from the door, ending up with Lex lying on top of him.

"I don't know."

"Well," Clark said, slipping his hands under the band of Lex's boxers. "Maybe we should experiment."

"I do have a bed you know." Lex leaned in and caught Clark's lower lip with a light tug of his teeth, followed by a quick flick of his tongue.

"That an invitation?" Clark said, stretching his hands out to pull Lex more firmly against him. He could feel the aching hardness of Lex's cock straining against the soft material that separated them.

"God, yes," Lex said, dragging Clark with him onto the bed. Clark shoved Lex's silk boxers down in one smooth motion and tossed them carelessly over his shoulder. He never thought he'd feel this relaxed being in bed with someone. Clark let his eyes travel down from Lex's face, across his bare chest, and settled on his ...

"Lex?" Clark's breath caught in his throat. This was unexpected.

"Come on, Clark. It's nothing you haven't seen before," Lex said, raising up on his elbows and looking at Clark's face, which had flushed a cherry red.

"I just didn't think ..."

Clark looked up to see Lex smiling at him with a look of genuine amusement that he wore so rarely. Suddenly Clark wasn't feeling quite as sure of himself as he'd felt a minute ago.

"You didn't think I'd have hair?" Clark shook his head.

"And it's red, Lex!" Clark said in amazement, reaching out to stroke his hand lightly through the dense auburn curls. Lex moaned at Clark's touch, cock twitching at the proximity of Clark's large hands.

"So was the rest of my hair." Clark didn't think Lex had meant for that to come out so breathlessly. Clark's fingers stroked gently through the hair, letting it curl lightly around them.

"This is so cool," Clark whispered reverently, as Lex burst into laughter. He grabbed Clark by the shoulders and pulled him hard against him.

"You assumed I'd be bald everywhere?" Lex asked.

"Well, yeah," Clark said, then quickly backpedalled. "Not that I thought about it a lot."

"Uh-huh," Lex said, nodding his head with a look that suggested he didn't believe a word that Clark was saying.

"I mean, you're bald from the meteors, and I just thought that--"

Clark stopped and sighed. He leaned his warm face against Lex's shoulder. "There's no way I can make this sound good, is there?"

"Nope," Lex said and kissed the top of his head. "So shut up."

Clark felt himself being rolled, Lex's weight comfortably slipping between his legs, Lex's cock pushing against his own growing erection.

"Clark?"

"Teenager, remember?" Clark said smiling. The familiar tingling ache was starting in his nerve endings, muscles pleasantly tense as he felt Lex start to move against him.

"Don't remind me," Lex muttered, covering Clark's mouth with a sloppy kiss. Clark let Lex control the rhythm, let his mind stop thinking about everything except the perfect way their bodies seemed to fit, hips rocking against one another in an easy wave of pleasure as hard maleness pushed heatedly against flesh and bone.

Clark eagerly let his hands slide over Lex's perfect skin, feeling every clenching muscle that Lex had earned from fencing and boxing and whatever other sports he'd pursued. Clark didn't necessarily want to think about what those might be right now, suspecting they involved too many teammates and acrobatic abilities that Clark had only fantasized about. They were alone in the world and he wanted it to stay that way. Evening was already scratching at the doorway and Clark would have to go home to consequences and repercussions and other multi-syllabic words that would result in him being grounded for the rest of his natural life and likely not ever being able to have this kind of freedom again.

Certainly not if he told them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

Clark really had no practice lying to his parents. They'd always been the keepers of his secrets. Truth was something they shared, even when he didn't want to. It was to protect him. To keep him safe.

"Stop thinking," Lex whispered urgently, and Clark knew that Lex had felt his tension mounting, knew it wasn't from impending orgasm. Clark nodded helplessly and found Lex's mouth, let him breathe life back into him, let Lex's tongue sweep away lingering doubts and words that would have to be found and re-learned later. Words like truth and love and trust.

Lex was sliding against him, supported on his arms, the weight of his hips a pulsing source of heat that made Clark moan and buck. Lex's body answered with its own urgent grind until the tug and thrust of their bodies had them both sweaty and breathless and wild for release.

When it came, Clark felt Lex explode above him first--felt the hot, sticky wetness shooting between them, between the slaps of their flesh. Lex, who had been so silent, so focussed, so intent on his movements, let loose a howl that sounded half-mad in the falling shadows, and only as Clark rode Lex's aftershocks did he recognize the howl as his name. Something inside Clark broke and he wrapped his legs impulsively around Lex's hips, pushing feverishly against his shuddering frame, and this time it was Lex's name that ripped through the night as easily as Clark's hands tore the sheets clenched in his reaching fist.

They lay like that, panting and sticky and spent, until their breathing slowed and found a matching rhythm. Lex slid onto the sheets beside him, and Clark felt himself pulled into warm arms, hands tangling in his hair, stroking him fondly, wanting nothing except to touch and reassure.

"I have to go, Lex. My parents will freak."

"They'll freak more if you don't shower first," Lex said nuzzling Clark's neck softly. "Just tell them there were meteor mutant problems."

"I can't lie to them, Lex. They've protected me my whole life."

"It's not a lie. Head stuck in the banister by green-haired freakishly strong Amazon woman, remember? And you don't need protection from me," Lex said catching Clark's eyes. "But you may not want to tell them everything just yet. We have to figure this out first."

Clark understood what Lex was saying and he knew it was reasonable. It wasn't so much keeping a secret as asking for some time to sort things out. Clark kissed Lex gently, and smiled as he realized Lex's eyes had darkened to a deeper shade of blue. Now they seemed more like the ocean on a clear day than the clouds before a storm.

"Experiment successful," Clark whispered. "Your eyes are definitely more blue."

Lex laughed softly. "Go shower."

Clark reluctantly rolled away and got out of bed. He raised an eyebrow at Lex in what he hoped was a suggestive gesture as he headed for the bathroom. Lex shook his head.

"Don't tempt me. It's hard enough to send you home. If I join you in there ..." Lex thrust his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes. He waved weakly in Clark's direction. "Go."

Clark smiled thinking how good it felt to know that he could do that to Lex--and that Lex could do that to him. Weakness had always seemed so horrifying--the way the green rocks made him feel helpless and sick--but this was the kind of weakness that was about letting go, trusting someone else enough to let them be strong. It no longer felt like something to be avoided. He might even like feeling weak if it meant sharing control with Lex.

Clark paused just outside the bathroom before turning back. Lex looked so peaceful stretched naked across the dark blue sheets, his skin gleaming like a pearl in some exotic undersea kingdom.

"Lex?"

"Clark." There was a teasing tone that suggested he'd been expecting a question. Lex had an uncanny ability to anticipate the things he would ask, would want. Clark looked forward to surprising him in the future.

"Your dad made a crack about 'Last Tango in Smallville' and I didn't get the reference."

Lex opened his eyes and grinned, the kind of grin that was all teeth, predatory and pleased.

"I'll be happy to explain it sometime, Clark."

"But not now?"

"Not now." Lex passed a hand over his skull, seeming to remember that it still bore the residue of his encounter with a pseudo-butter product earlier in the day.

"And Clark?"

"Yeah."

"We're going to need some real butter."

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Livejournal and the Smallville Slash Archive (SSA), July 2004.


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